


The Wayward Wind

by articulatez



Series: The Book of Love (Kinktober 2019) [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/M, Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 13:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20948798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articulatez/pseuds/articulatez
Summary: Set after the events of Dragon Age Awakening, Sanguine Tabris and Zevran Arainai set sail for Antiva and privately celebrate their reunion.





	The Wayward Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fall and Rise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931719) by [TheDandyCrickette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDandyCrickette/pseuds/TheDandyCrickette). 

The wind cut across the deck, the crew lively with the promise of full sails and a swift voyage. White gulls bayed from the eddies and their posts on shore, and Zevran Arainai was ready to return home. Well, to his homeland, anyway. He perched on a barrel, coring and peeling an apple with a knife that could easily and painlessly sever an artery, and he listened to the whistling winds and the ceaseless kiss of cresting waves upon the land. All the while he kept his ears pricked, never a one to be caught off his guard.  
  
He saw her hair first, in truth. Sanguine wore her tangerine red hair in a thick plait to her waist. She no longer wore her wedding clothes or the ring from her late husband, instead attired in a short linen dress with an armored tan jerkin. It was a fetching ensemble, suited for the journey ahead. At least it would be shorter than the roads they had tread in the last two years, from his failed attempt on her life, to their writhing bodies in a shared bedroll, to treaties and diplomacy and cutting the head off a foul snake. After the Blight, she had quelled the little bickering chaos left in the land from her holdings in Amaranthine while Zevran helped her cousin Shianni maintain order in the rebuilt Denerim alienage.   
  
"My dear Warden," he said, tipping his feathered hat. "You look marvelous as always."  
  
Sanguine laughed, squinting crowlike with the sun in her eyes, and said, "Did you see these?" and propped up her foot on the taffrail. She really was quite flexible, and that was not all. Her legs that had spent countless hours wrapped trembling around his waist or his shoulders were clad in forest green boots of the finest Antivan leather.  
  
He would match that smell anywhere. It brought to mind fish chowders, perfumed whores, the heavy oils in ritual baths. He stroked the length of her calf with a single finger, a wistful smile on his lips. "Excellent taste."  
  
She patted the pack hanging on her side and said, "Ah, yes, speaking of taste, I have a square of chocolate with your name on it and something else for us to both enjoy along with it." Sanguine tousled his hair as she walked past in that way he would detest and not tolerate from anyone else. Every touch from her was affection, a cleanse and a balm. He answered with a slap to her rear, took a bite from the apple and tossed the rest overboard.  
  
Below deck in quarters befitting a Grey Warden and her companion, they shared broken pieces of chocolate and stories, the expensive and bittersweet bean going to their heads and lower parts faster than wine, as they had developed a tolerance for the latter to rival any soldier. But war was done. All that was left was to clean house and together dispatch of those Crows who would seek to harm him and disrupt their earned happiness.   
  
They massaged each other with warming lavender oil, relaxing the outside skin and muscles of aches and worries and then stimulating the inside, his fingers in the wetness up her thighs and Sanguine's between his cheeks, her free hand gripping him. He stifled his need with a hard kiss, embarrassed by how quickly he came, like some inexperienced youth.  
  
After, he rested his head upon her breasts -- magnificent breasts, too, white and full and tipped with red nipples and light freckles -- and said, "Welcome home, Sanguine."  
  
"Sleep, Zevran," she sighed, half-awake at best herself.   
  
He thought there was something sad in her voice. Forlorn at the thought of leaving Ferelden, potentially for good, at the Calling growing louder within, at the way the winds could change at any hour; it did not really matter. He would keep her safe and stay at her side for as long as she desired.


End file.
